Bittersweet
by Tofs
Summary: "Dean, why can't we be together? What's wrong with that?" Sam had been following Dean around with those kinds of questions all day, since last night. Dean had answered almost the same way every single time.  "Because, Sammy. It's wrong." T for language


**Hi, there!**

**I wanted to say that this story idea and a couple of the lines were given to me by a friend. And_ she_ got the idea from a song, "I Will Always Love You" by Whitney Houston.**

**And the usual, I don't own Supernatural, or Sam Winchester,_ or_ Dean Winchester. But if I did... :D Okay, not really. I don't own the letters A or B or C ect., either.**

**And one more thing. I LOVE reviews! It's my way of knowing that somebody's at least read my writing. If there's something wrong with the story (including a tiny spelling mistake), please tell me. Just don't start screaming about how terrible this is. You can even say, "No offense, but I would delete and forget about this fic if I were you," just don't freak out. Now you can read!**

**Oh, yeah. There wasn't room in the summary, though you've probably guessed it. This fic's main character is Wincest.**

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><p>Dean Winchester sat in the front seat of the Impala, driving slowly to Sam's college. Normally, being as nervous as he was at the moment, he would have been just on the edge of speeding. But he wanted to take this slow, think it out and make sure he didn't want to turn around and leave this crazy thought behind. Did he? <em>No<em>. Why even think that? _'Cause you should._

_I love you, Sammy._ Well, that was all kinds of wrong._ But it feels right._ Dean ran a red light without even realizing, and luckily no one saw, or cared enough to report it. What made him even _want _to change his mind now? He told Sam his feelings three years ago, and he told him they were final. Dean felt like crying and laughing when he thought about that time, and he had no fucking idea why.

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><p>"<em>Dean, why can't we be together? What's wrong with that?" Sam had been following Dean around with those kinds of questions all day, since last night. Dean had answered almost the same way every single time.<em>

"_Because, Sammy. It's wrong."_

"_But why-"_

"_Because it is! It just-is Sam, I can't-I can't do this! It was just a onetime thing, an accident! Neither of us were thinking."_

"_Why?" Sam crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned on one hip. Dean found himself staring a little too long at that hip, and the way his eyes just slid down to his brother's thighs covered by the tight jeans he was wearing was just so natural..but wrong. "If I was just another guy you met, then would you be okay with it?"_

_Dean wiped a hand down his face and then through his hair, accidently making eye contact with Sam's eyes, those soft and desperate eyes-and broke it immediately. "No, Sammy, that isn't it. It's just-"_

"_What? What is it, Dean? Fine! If I was your _sister_, would you say yes?"_

"_No, Sam! I mean yes, I mean-I don't know! Just leave me alone!" Dean turned to leave quickly, trying to hide the tears of frustration that had just began to sneak down his face._

"_But Dean!" Sam jumped toward Dean with those long legs, such long legs…and grabbed his hand before the older brother could pass through the open doorway. Dean looked back slightly, but his head was hung low, in such a way that Sam could only see his forehead and eyebrows. Not the tears. "Please." The seventeen year-old's voice broke a bit there, but he quickly recovered it with a firmer grip on Dean's hand with his own, the skin so smooth, so soft…and a stronger tone in his voice, even though it was still a bit choked with tears. "I need to know _why._ It isn't because we're related, it isn't because we're both guys. We can hide it from Dad easy. Why _is it?_" His voice rose with his last two words, so desperate sounding, so lonely…Dean had to look up._

_His brother's cheeks were also stained with tears, even more so than his own. Why had they even kissed? Why had this begun? Was that one moment of perfection worth all the misery they were going through? "I don't know, Sammy. Maybe it's-" Dean took a shuddering breath and shut his eyes tight for a few seconds. He opened them after, and they were red and sore. "Maybe it's because I don't love you."_

_The grip on Dean's hand, the one that almost hurting, but was gentle enough not to, loosened, and then fell from existence. Dean looked down and saw that Sam's hand had found its way next to his side, twitching with something unknown to the older Winchester. Perhaps with the want to touch Dean, to hold him, to love him... Dean looked to his eyes, and saw shock. That shock he never wanted to see, that shock that dug so deep, that hurt so much…Another tear fell from Dean's eye, even though he thought he had no more to give._

"_But Dean, you-what about last night? You said-I thought-" The young man's voice broke finally, really broke, and it felt like Dean's soul was shattering with it. A sob came too, immediately after the last of Dean's control over emotion fell. Sam just cried, and Dean was at a loss of what to do. There was his brother, standing alone in a hall, his shoulders hunched and shaking, those beautiful, smooth shoulders…and his arms hung loose at his side, those strong arms…even though it looked like he was trying to find the strength or concentration to hug himself._

_If Dean reached for him now, he feared he'd never be able to let go. But he couldn't just let him stand there, crying. There was no way out of it. It was all a trap, whatever it was. Love-no, Dean refused to believe it was love-maybe just the love of brothers-but the feeling was too strong for that-_the feeling_ was a trap._

_Dean reached out and took his brother in his arms all in one sweeping motion. Sam's shaking arms immediately wrapped around his waist and his hands held his older brother's shirt with strength that he had been without only a few seconds ago. Dean had his right hand running through Sam's hair, and gently rubbing the back of his baby brother's neck – a habit that had come to be whenever Sam needed comfort over the years. The other was massaging small circles on Sam's back, sometimes between the shoulder blades, others where his ribs ended._

"_Shhhh….." There was no other sound Dean could think to make, other than the sobs that were coming from Sam. So he continued to comfort, and occasionally kiss the taller boy's head. Thank God his younger brother was hunched over, or he would have felt ridiculous holding him. If he could think of anything but the crumbled mess in his arms._

"_Dean, please. I love you. I-"_

"_Shh…you don't know that, Sammy. I don't think you know what love is."_

_Sam sniffled, then pressed on. "And do _you?_ Do you know what love is, Dean?"_

"_I've never felt it, no, Sammy. I'm sorry, but I never have, not even now. Last night, it just seemed right. It was just for a moment, though, a very messed up moment-"_

_Sam pulled away to look Dean in the eye. And Dean, have mercy, just felt drawn to the serious stare, _needed_ to meet the challenging gaze. "But if you've never been in love, Dean, then you don't know what it feels like. And if you don't know what it feels like, how do you know you've not in it right now?"_

_Dean hadn't even realized Sam had slipped a hand under his shirt, but he felt the warm fingers against his chest, fingering his necklace, that necklace…and had to pull away. No matter how much he wanted to stay there, holding Sam…Sam looked hurt that Dean had reacted how he had, and his hand still hung in the air, those long, beautiful fingers curling…curling into a fist. The hand dropped and he bit his bottom lip. "Dean, just give me a chance."_

_A chance. Dean would have given him a lifetime of chances, but he couldn't. He just couldn't. He sighed, and wiped what tears were still wet away from his face. "I'm sorry, Sammy. I'm sorry, but no. There aren't any chances. We're brothers. Just brothers."_

_Dean was afraid Sam's lip would start bleeding, how hard his teeth were pressing into it, but Sam opened his mouth and spoke through clenched teeth. "Fine." Without another word, he turned away, head hung low, but shoulders drawn back._

"_Sammy…" It stopped Sam, but he didn't turn around._

"_What?" It was just a whisper. There was no hope in it, no anger. It was just dead._

_Dean wanted to run to Sam, but his legs would only allow him one step before they froze. "Please…just let this be the last. I won't change my mind."_

_Sam's shoulders straightened a bit more, and he nodded to the open doorway he was facing. "Alright, Dean."_

_Just as Sam left, their dad walked through the doorway Dean would have used as an exit if Sam hadn't stopped him. "Are you okay, Dean? Thought I heard some yelling."_

_Dean jumped at the new voice, but didn't turn around, remembering the state of his face and eyes. "Uh, yeah, Dad. Sam and I just got in a fight. All done now, though."_

_Dean still didn't turn, but he knew John would be nodding his head. "Alright. Are you ready to go?"_

"_Uh, yeah. Just let me get my coat." With that, Dean ran from the hall, thanking Fate that his Dad hadn't been able to hear the words of Sam's and his 'fight', and had seen neither of their faces._

_And that was the last they had ever said about it. Sam didn't smile a long while after, at least not to Dean. Dean felt like puking every time he saw his younger brother, and also wanted to run into his arms. But after a year, as soon as Sam was able to, the younger Winchester left for College. Away from temptation, and away from pain. And Dean was glad to see him go, being able to finally concentrate on hunting._

_But regret grew, regret of what Dean had said, regret that he had let Sam go._

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><p>And now he was here, driving to Sam's college, with the fuckin' insane idea to beg for forgiveness.<p>

Finally, Dean found the school. It was nice. Big. Better. _Better than what, Dean? Better than you? _Sometimes Dean hated that extra voice in his head, the one that brought the hidden truth out of everything. _Truth…_ Yeah, he really hated it.

He drove slow into the parking lot, and silently praised himself for thinking ahead and skipping lunch. He parked and ran his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath. _You're not doing this, Dean. You're not doing this. _Just act like it's a dream, it gets you through the toughest parts of life. _You're doing this, Dean._ Oh, Dean wanted to shoot himself.

He leaned his head on the steering wheel, the cool leather calming him a bit. After maybe a minute of silencing his diabolical mind, he raised his head and reached for the glove box. There he found a flask of whiskey, the answer to his prayers. After a quick swig, he screwed the cap back on, tossed it onto the other seat, maybe the floor, and opened the car door.

_Get out, Dean. You just drove two hours without once turning back. There's no 'forget this' crap happening now._ One leg and then the other, and Dean was out. In the parking lot. Of Sam's college. _Oh, I'm totally screwed. _Okay. Sam _will say no. You'll go back, knowing you tried. And knowing your brother hates you for not fucking him when he was seventeen. Sam will say _yes. _He comes back with you, and you just tell Dad you're gonna get married and have onehelluva wedding party. Join us?_ Oh, yeah. Like that's gonna happen. Ever. _And who said anything about marriage?_

But despite all of that, doubtful mind included, Dean needed to try. He shut the door of the Impala and started walking.

Dean was walking through what looked like an outside garden-type thing, passing rows and rows of college kids leaning over picnic tables and reading books. He had a deep suspicion Sam would be one of them. He kept walking, his steps growing slower and slower. Did he really want to do this?_ Yes you do, Dean. Love. _Oh, yeah, Dean had 'felt' love when Sam begged him to admit it three years ago. He was just scared of it. And even if he hadn't, it'd never stopped him before.

Now it was time to make it up to Sam for lying. _But does Sam want this now? It was _three years ago_, Dean. Three. _Yeah, so what, three? If Sam really loved me, his wish hasn't changed. _Or he learned to move on. Like _someone_ I don't know. _Shut up.

Dean hadn't even realized it, but he had passed all the tables and actually walked into the school. He was in what looked like another reading area, just inside and nicer. Glass windows so you could still see flowers in the garden, but two walls so you could have book shelves. Cute.

All the tables in the room were circular, seating maybe eight people each. There were maybe ten. But only _one_ mattered to Dean. There. Past one table was sitting Sammy. Right there, laughing with seven other college students, four of them girls. One of them was next to him, a blonde, leaning on his shoulder and giggling.

Sam had his right arm around her own shoulders and was the first to stop laughing. Dean was too far away to hear what Sam said, but it was apparently something funnier than the last comment made, 'cause they all started off again, louder than last time. The blonde lifted her head off Sam's shoulder and let her forehead drop onto one of the books on the table in front of her, barely missing a sandwich next to Sam.

Dean went blank on how he was going to get Sam's attention when he saw him gently lift the girl's face from the table and…kiss. Kiss her. It was sweet and passionate and long. Like the beginning of that night…Dean dropped his head and tried to fight back tears. _You knew this was gonna happen, Dean. Or something like it at least. Just turn around, go to a bar, get a drink, and find a hunt with Dad. You've ignored him well enough to hunt the last two years._

So Dean turned. Slowly and painfully, but he turned. And took a step. Another. And another. In less than a minute, Dean was by an open door. He wouldn't leave without seeing Sam one more time, though. He slowly moved his head, then, God help him, turned. Sam was still there, smiling, _glowing_, and looking at that girl.

He looked around, away from Sam. At the other students, at the other tables. They all wore nice clothes, they were all reading books or using laptops, they were all in _college_. Sam would have never chosen him. Dean never even finished High School. And the day he didn't at least take one swig of some sort of alcohol was the day his dad gave up hunting. Even if Sam had said yes, Dean wouldn't want him to give up College. Not for him.

He was just about to turn-so close-when Sam looked up from his girlfriend…And locked gazes with Dean. Dean felt his heart plummet down. Sam had seen him. He was totally screwed. His brother looked shocked. No, shocked was too small a word. He looked happy, surprised, upset, hurt, and confused, all in one face. There was nothing to do. Dean smiled weakly, and started out the door, just praying to anything that Sam wouldn't respond like he usually did to surprise.

"Dean!" Well, that god didn't like to grant people's wishes. Dean turned slowly, still holding the door half open. Sam had stood up, and pretty much everyone in the whole room was either looking at Sam or him, or switching between the two.

"Hey, Sammy." His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but Sam at least heard a sound. He quickly passed all the reading tables with those long legs Dean's eyes seemed to love staring at, and stood in front of Dean, never once looking away from his face. Dean felt like just collapsing. He had no idea why, it just felt like the right thing to do. But, of course, his legs were like solid rock. "Dean, what are you doing here?"

Dean had to look away. At the floor, at his boots, at anything. Sam's legs became the best option. "Just checking in, Sammy. On my way back from a hunt." _Hunt, my ass!_

Sam let out a puff of air, so much like he used to. "Well Dean, why didn't you come over? You obviously saw me. Here, I'll introduce you to some of my friends." Sam made to grab Dean's arm, but Dean pulled away just in time to feel only the soft brush of Sam's fingertips. Sam looked hurt, but that was to be expected. Dean's eyes filled with tears again, and he ducked his head.

"No, Sammy, I just-I see you're fine, and you know I hate talking. I'll just leave." Dean turned around, leaving his right arm to hang behind him just a bit, just one more chance for Sam to-

"But Dean!" He did it. Sam did it. His large hand closed around Dean's arm, holding him from leaving. Dean could have fainted of relief, and killed himself for being so stupid and staying. He turned slowly, and let his tears show just a bit, then Sam recognized the position. Slowly, his eyes widened, and his hand dropped. "Dean, are you-" His voice broke a bit, maybe of surprise. "What are you here for? Is it because of when we…" _So he still thinks about it. _There was no way Dean would be staring into Sam's eyes now. It was Sam's hand, the one that had grabbed his arm. "Dean? Is that why you're here?" There was no chance of him speaking, either. It was a silent yes. "Have you-have you changed your mind?"

_He's got a girlfriend, Dean. _"Sammy, I don't think this-" Then Sam was there, wrapping him in his strong arms, holding him close. So close.

"Dean, please. Have you changed your mind?" It was just a whisper, but it was so full of hope. "Please. Say you have."

Dean shut his eyes tight, letting two tears fall down his face and he held onto Sam's shoulder blades, before gently pulling away. Sam also had a few tears in his eyes, just a few. "Keep your voice down, Sammy. Your girlfriend's watching."

In that one second of the word 'girlfriend', Sam's whole face changed, and the tears silently fell. "Dean, I-oh, Dean! Is that why you tried to leave? You say Jess. You saw us-oh, please. Please. Dean, it doesn't matter, I-" He took both Dean's hands in his own, and tried to step forward.

But as he came closer, Dean fell back. "Please, Sammy. Just let me go. I shouldn't have come, it was a stupid mistake. I'll just leave-"

"Dean, please."

"Good luck with your girlfriend." He gently pulled his hands away, but before he left, he leaned close to whisper to Sam. "But I will _always_ love you, Sammy. There's nothin' that's ever gonna change that." He pulled away, and smiled gently at his younger brother.

Sam looked shocked and hurt. But not too much to try to change Dean's mind just one more time. "Dean, please. I-"

"Invite me to the wedding! I'll tell Dad you said hi." And with that, Dean was out the door, _running_ for the Impala.

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><p>"What was that, Sam?" Jessica took Sam's arm and pulled him closer when he sat down with his friends again.<p>

"Nothin'. It was just my brother." He faked a smile and leaned down to kiss her. "Doesn't matter."

"Sam, it looked serious. You were both pretty upset."

"It was nothing, Jess. He just wanted me to go back for a meeting with some old friends. I said no and he got upset. It really doesn't matter." _Yes, it does, Sam. You shouldn't have let him leave._

"Okay," Jess dropped the subject and moved onto another. "So, Jake said he was having a party tonight. Wanna go?"

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><p>Dean climbed into the car, and let out a breath. The tears were countless, sliding down his cheeks and into the cracks of his lips. Mumbling and swearing, Dean thought through what had happened, and thought of Sam just standing there, in front of the door, shocked. He reached down to the seat for the whiskey. It wasn't there, so he reached for the floor.<p>

After he had found it, he took several deep gulps._ Breath, Dean._ He screwed the lid on and started the car. He was fairly certain he had gotten himself under control and could see again. He drove away, and remembered what he had whispered before he left.

_I will _always_ love you, Sammy._

And he always would.

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><p><strong>If you want to make someone smile, please review!<strong>


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